


4 - Chase

by jessetheautobot



Series: Scratched [4]
Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29799564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessetheautobot/pseuds/jessetheautobot
Summary: Chase was asked to meetup with Heatwave. Someone new jumped in when Heatwave was forcing Chase to something he wasn't willing to do.
Series: Scratched [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139765
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	4 - Chase

**Author's Note:**

> AAAA OKAY I KNOW I KEEP CHANGING HOW OLD THE BOTS ARE CURRENTLY SO HERE'S A SUMMARY OF IT:  
> Chase, Heatwave, Blades, Boulder - 5th grader  
> Miku, Bee - 1st grader

Heatwave had kindly invited me to the library for a bonding session through our common interest: studying. However, my Spark had been trying to convince me that he was not one to trust.

The library doors slid open horizontally, exposing the smell of both the young and the ancient data pads to the outside momentarily. Bots were scattered across the area, sitting by themselves at the reading lounge, which was enclosed in another room. The checkout counter was directly a few metres north from the entrance, with a bot-on-duty scanning data pads for a group of mechs who seem to just have finished their group study session. I find myself questioning on the benefits of group studying, but did not come to realise that I was technically involved in a group study with Heatwave only.

“Hey pal!” the fire bot greeted warmly out loud, waving his servo in the air whilst leaving the efforts of the librarians to keep the quiet environment in vain. Behind him stood the very same bots whom he whispered to during our homeroom session together, along with rather gigantic bots whom I presume are the seniors of the high-school students.

I swiftly made my way across the library, hoping to not see a familiar face of laughter that provided me the feeling of insecurity, the feeling that is strange and new. Heatwave dragged me into a tight embrace by the shoulder.

“Don’t worry pal,” he assures, pushing me away, “you won’t meet my boss today.”

Boss?

“Umm, may I ask- woah!”

“Save your questions for later,” Heatwave smiled, pulling me toward the exit of the library.

“Where are we headed to?” I asked as we made it outside.

“You study a lot, am I right?” Heatwave smirked at me.

“Indeed I do,” I replied, “but where are we go-”

“Remember what Blades said about fame?” Heatwave began to giggle a little uncontrollably.

“Well, I was not planning on gaining fame,” I replied.

“I want you to do something for me,” Heatwave whispered over to my audio receptors. “I need you,” he pokes my helm for emphasis, “and your smart little processor, to finish off assignments of mine and them,” he points to his gang of friends, including the ones who are in a higher grade.

“I have not yet grasped the concept of Grade 7 or higher!” I gasped.

“Oh come on, just us and the boss’,” Heatwave scoffed.

“My apologies, Heatwave. I cannot-”

Heatwave pushes me to a nearby wall. Murmurs of fear echoed around as he shot me dark red optics. I gulped. The rest of Heatwave’s gang were surrounding the both of us, blocking out the light source from the ceiling.

“That was not a decision I asked you to make,” Heatwave snaps, pinning me against the wall with no exit. “I’ll rip out your Spark if I have to,” he threatened. He brought his servo close to my Spark chamber.

“I’ll… complete them,” I answered. “Please, let me go!”

Heatwave laughs. “Thank you, nerd,” he mocked, still not letting me go.

Suddenly, Heatwave was tackled to the ground, falling at his side.

“Yo,” the tackler greeted. It was in its fox mode, hence I could not distinguish the gender. “Ya might wanna get the frag out while I deal with this,” it suggested.

“Heatwave, do send me the assignments you required me to finish,” I added, a little caught off-guard.

The fox turns to the red mech.

“What in the name of Primus did you-!”

A pair of strong servos gripped tightly on the fox before flinging it to the opposite wall. It lands right next to a rack filled with datapads. It growls as it gets up slowly. I closely observed its neck, where a collar was worn around. From the tiny lightning symbol on the collar, it is identified to be an electrocuting collar, its sole purpose is to keep a Cybertronian in control.

Usually bots who wear that collar are-

“Did you get out from a mental facility or something?” Heatwave enquired, also noticed the electrocution collar.

“None of your business, dumbaft,” the fox hissed.

“Stop trying to protect others when you can’t even protect yourself,” Heatwave stated matter-of-factly.

The fox lunges at Heatwave before getting tackled by a professor.

“Do you really wish to get into trouble again, Miku?” the professor asked.

“Sir, with all due respect,” the fox, Miku, replied as she transforms into her bipedal mode, “Heatwave was pressuring the blue mech right here to-.”

The professor leaned over to Miku and whispers in her audio receptor, making her shut her intake. Her yellow-tipped, black fox ears drooped in disappointment as her yellow-tipped, black fox tail swayed in defeat.

“Understood?” the professor asked.

“Got it,” Miku sighs. She walks towards my direction, hiding her left servo behind her back.

“You okay?” she asked, looking away.

I nod. “Is your servo alright?”

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry,” she looked up, giving a bright smile that could light up the darkest hour. “I’m Miku, you?”

“Chase,” I held out my servo, before realising the fact that this was a way of Earth greeting instead of Cybertronian greeting. She took it and shook it anyway.

“I thought I was the only one who knows the ‘handshake’ greeting,” she smiled, pulling away. “I hope we get to see each other around some time,” she began walking away, “nice to meet you though!” She gave a small salute before walking off.

“I sent our pending assignments through the school email,” Heatwave informed with a rasped voice. He immediately clears his windpipe. “Is that clear?”

“Affirmative,” I sighed.

**Tbc...**


End file.
